


Got a Story to Tell

by virdant



Category: Glee
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Crack, Las Vegas Wedding, M/M, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-10 22:29:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20143027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virdant/pseuds/virdant
Summary: If anybody asked—not that anybody had asked—then Sebastian would claim, not incorrectly, that this was all Thad’s fault.If anybody asked—not that anybody would ask—then Sebastian would elaborate, with great enthusiasm, that the story was long and complicated, and of course he would tell.If anybody asked—and oh, people asked—then Sebastian would say that it all started about ten years after graduation, with a group text consisting of one word:





	Got a Story to Tell

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2019 Seblaine Week Day 1 Prompt: Accidental Marriage

If anybody asked—not that anybody had asked—then Sebastian would claim, not incorrectly, that this was all Thad’s fault.

If anybody asked—not that anybody would ask—then Sebastian would elaborate, with great enthusiasm, that the story was long and complicated, and of _course_ he would tell.

If anybody asked—and oh, people asked—then Sebastian would say that it all started about ten years after graduation, with a group text consisting of one word:

  


* * *

  


“Vegas?” 

“Den of iniquity. Cigarette smoke, liquor lingering on the carpet from too many spills, and, of course: you.”

“Me.”

“Well, your ass.”

“My ass.”

“It’s a great ass.”

“You’ve said.”

“And it’s my story, and so I’m going to say it many times.”

  


* * *

  


Officially, it was a 10-year Warbler reunion. Unofficially, it was an excuse to get uproariously drunk with people who already had enough blackmail on each other. They booked a few rooms, bought a few handles of liquor, and soon found themselves in the sweltering heat of a Vegas summer. All organized, of course, by Thad.

There were hot afternoons in the pool, money washed down slot machines, and too much poker to count. And at night, there was the thump of the bass, music loud in their ears, writhing against lithe bodies with abandon—clubbing.

And one night, alone and abandoned by the Warblers, Sebastian saw one sight he would always recognize.

  


* * *

  


“How often are you going to mention my ass in this story?”

“As many times as I want.”

“Don’t you think you’re taking it a little too far?”

“Do you want this story to be believable or not?”

“I don’t believe you actually talk about my ass this much.”

  


* * *

  


Some people might have spent time waffling about. Some people might have had to think about things. Sebastian was not one of those people. He took his drink and marched straight towards where that writhing ass and slid a hand on it.

And in the pounding throng, he heard: “Wha—Sebastian?”

“Fancy seeing you here,” Sebastian shouted back.

“What did you say?”

“Fancy seeing you here!”

“What?”

“I said—” He rolled his eyes, not that anybody could see in the flashing lights, and gestured away from the many speakers.

Blaine got the idea. With some well-placed elbows on Sebastian’s part and ass-shimmying on Blaine’s part, they managed navigate the crowd to find a quiet corner.

“What are you doing, Sebastian?” Blaine shouted.

“I could ask you the same,” Sebastian shouted back, charmingly.

They shouted until their voices were hoarse, drank to ease the strain, and shouted more. And when dawn came, they parted to pass out in their respective beds.

  


* * *

  


“I’m surprised you don’t have me in your bed on the first night.”

“Please. Like you’d be that easy.”

“Are you telling me that you didn’t proposition me?”

“Fine.”

  


* * *

  


One night passed such. And then two. And then three. Every night, Sebastian found Blaine. Every night, Blaine untangled himself from his throng of admirers and went to Sebastian: to drink, to shout, and to drink more.

And every night, at the end, Sebastian raised an eyebrow and shouted, “My bed or yours?”

And every night, at the end, Blaine shouted back, “You can sleep in your bed. I’m sleeping in mine.”

  


* * *

  


“Better.”

“Thank you.”

  


* * *

  


But all good things came to an end.

The night before Sebastian prepared to fly back, he went with the other Warblers to get uproariously drunk so they could nurse hangovers on their respective flights. There, in the club, he found a sight he would always find.

They danced. They drank. They danced some more. They drank some more. And this time, when Sebastian raised an eyebrow, both of them were drunk enough that what came out of their mouths was not the song and dance they had been performing for a week.

“Don’t know what I’d do without that ass in my life.”

“You’ll live,” Blaine shouted back.

“I don’t think I will.” He slung an arm around Blaine’s waist. “Let’s get hitched.”

And Blaine, drunk, said, “Sure, but don’t think this means that I’m not sleeping in my own bed.”

  


* * *

  


“Seriously?”

“What?”

“That’s your proposal?”

“Well, it works, right?”

  


* * *

  


One Vegas wedding later, Blaine and Sebastian made it back to their hotel room. Blaine studied the ring on his finger. “This wasn’t what I expected,” he finally said.

“Getting married to me?”

Blaine rolled his eyes back. “Getting married at the Warbler reunion.”

Sebastian grinned, flopping back onto the plush mattress. “We should probably come up with a story to tell the guys.”

“They’re going to be so mad that they missed the ceremony,” Blaine agreed, kicking off his shoes. He settled next to Sebastian, digging his skull into Sebastian’s shoulder.

“Hey, get your own bed.”

“Pretty sure this is also my bed.” Blaine closed his eyes, smiling. “Probably more mine than yours, since I made the reservation.”

“You’re lucky your ass is pretty.”

“What about the rest of me?”

“That’s also pretty,” Sebastian agreed.

The king-sized bed was soft and plush, and Sebastian was drifting off when Blaine said, “How mad do you think the other’s will be?” 

“They’re going to be more mad that we’ve been dating for three months and haven’t told them before we got married,” he drawled back.

“Hey. I told Wes.”

“Yeah? I told Thad.”

“I also told Trent.”

“I might have mentioned it to Nick and Jeff.”

“I also let it slip to David.”

“And Beat when he tried to set me up with his cousin.”

“And Matt—you know, he was flirting with you.”

“And…” Sebastian paused. “Matt was flirting with me?”

“How did you not notice?”

“I was distracted by your ass.”

Blaine snorted.

Sebastian studied the peaceful face next to him, the shoulders broad from boxing, that perfect ass that he had just married.

“So, we don’t need to come up with a story?” Sebastian finally asked.

“Probably not,” Blaine admitted. 

“Pity. I had a good one.”

“Well,” he rolled over, settling hip to hip over Sebastian. “Just because we don’t need to do it…”

Sebastian grinned, taking that perfect ass into his hands. “It all started, oh, let’s say about ten years after graduation—”

**Author's Note:**

> ❤️ Enjoyed it? Try the following options:
> 
>   * Find me in the Seblaine discord
>   * Follow me on twitter [@virdant](http://virdant.twitter.com)
>   * Comment and kudo below


End file.
